


Everything Crashes for a Reason

by Mr_Pinniped



Series: Ducktales Pre-Canon Events [3]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Canon-typical hijinx, Comedy, Gay Gyro Gearloose, Gen, Himbo Launchpad McQuack, Jock/Nerd solidarity, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pansexual Launchpad McQuack, Roommates, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:21:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28207512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Pinniped/pseuds/Mr_Pinniped
Summary: Gyro enjoys his new job with McDuck Enterprises, but isn't quite sure about his new roommate here in Duckberg.
Relationships: Della Duck & Donald Duck, Della Duck/Selene, Donald Duck & Gyro Gearloose, Gyro Gearloose & Launchpad McQuack, Launchpad McQuack/OC(s), Launchpad McQuack/Ziyi
Series: Ducktales Pre-Canon Events [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2028373
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	1. An Old TV Show

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set just a few weeks after my fic "Fake it Til You Make It". Those events are briefly referenced in the first chapter, but otherwise are not necessary to understanding anything in this story (Though feel free to check it out if you're curious!)

Gyro Gearloose had left work, but his brain was still buzzing with ideas. He sat on the last bus of the evening, trying to write everything down in a little notebook. The bus jostled him and his pencil slipped, accidentally crossing out the “steam-powered shoes” that he had just written. He stared at it again. Maybe it was fate, telling him that was a bad idea. People might burn their feet. Unless he could come up with some super-insulating cloth?

He tried to write “super-insulating cloth” but the bus lurched again, making the ‘s’ in ‘insulating’ look more like a mutated ampersand. He tried again and got as far as “super-insulating clo”, but as the bus stopped, the pencil pressed hard against the page, breaking the lead. He didn’t have a sharpener, so he sighed and looked out the window. 

_ Wait.  _ This was his stop! He stood up just as the bus started moving again. He sat back down, focused on the movement of the vehicle this time, and got off at the next stop, backtracking several blocks on foot.

It was almost midnight, but it was also a Friday, so a few groups of people were still out, accompanying each other back from the late-night restaurants and bars back towards the towering apartment complex in which Gyro now lived. The entire complex was owned by his new employer, Scrooge McDuck. He’d offered a room to Gyro soon after offering him the job- apparently he kept a small number of apartments discounted for new employees, to help them move to Duckberg and start working as soon as possible. Gyro didn’t mind the apartment itself- it was reasonably clean with a decent kitchen, a spacious shower, and a large window in each of the two bedrooms. Nor did he mind the discounted rent that Mr. McDuck offered- he still had some student loans to pay off from his recently-completed PhD program. 

But he still wasn’t quite sure how he felt about his new roommate. Launchpad McQuack was a tall, broad-shouldered man, a few years younger than Gyro, who was working as a delivery driver for several McDuck Enterprises products, while studying to be a pilot. He seemed friendly, but a little too enthusiastic. And Gyro couldn’t for the life of him figure out if Launchpad’s cheerful and carefree demeanor was genuine or not. He may have just finished a PhD in engineering, but in all his years of schooling, he really hadn’t learned much about understanding people. He’d hardly left the lab back in Tokyolk, to be honest. And after his ignominious departure from the city, he’d found it hard to get close to anyone. The story of 2-BO had followed Gyro to University Hamsterdam, where he’d finished his dissertation working under the eccentric Ludwig von Drake, one of the only professors who’d been willing to take on the former protege of Dr. Akita. He hadn’t really met a lot of people in Duckburg yet. Though as far as he could tell, Launchpad was not capable of  _ understanding  _ Gyro’s work, much less caring about his past. While he might have preferred the company of someone more intellectually stimulating, it was nice to not be judged. At least, Gyro was pretty sure he wasn’t being judged. 

The building was reasonably quiet, as Gyro crept down the hall towards apartment number 502, wondering if he could manage to make hot cocoa in the kitchen without clinking the dishes loudly enough to wake Launchpad. But as he opened the door, he found these worries were unfounded, as Launchpad was not asleep, and neither were the two other people in the apartment.

“Gyro!” Launchpad jumped up and clapped a hand to his shoulder. Gyro stiffened at the touch, but kept his face calm. “Have a date, or working late?”

“A date?” Gyro looked shocked. “Who would I go on a date with? I just moved here. I don’t know anyone.”

“I dunno, you could’ve met someone.”

“I was at work. And then I missed my stop on the bus back.”

Launchpad sat back down on the sofa next to their two guests. “This is Donald and Della Duck, by the way. Mr. McDuck’s niece and nephew- they live up in the manor with him.”

The pair of ducks each raised a hand and waved at Gyro. A quick glance told him they were obviously twins, and they looked to be in their early twenties. 

“You just missed the final episode.” Della said as Donald reached for the remote and switched off the television, which was playing a vaguely familiar saxophone tune that Gyro couldn’t quite place.

“What show?” Gyro pulled one of the wooden chairs from the kitchen table and sat facing the three others on the couch.

“Darkwing Duck.” Donald’s voice was unusually raspy. Gyro had never heard an accent quite like it. Or maybe it was a speech impediment? Asking would be awkward, he decided.

“Darkwing Duck? Like from when we were kids? It’s still running?” Gyro looked at the trio.

“Not anymore! I can’t believe they cancelled it on a cliffhanger” Launchpad cried dramatically. Donald patted his arm.

“Yeah. It’s just ended,” said Della in a perfectly normal voice, allowing Gyro to deduce that her twin’s unusual manner of speaking must not be a learned accent. “Where’ve you been? Under a rock?”

“In graduate school.” Gyro responded with a shrug. “Not a lot of time for TV. Anyway,” he admitted, “I wasn’t that into Darkwing as a kid. I liked space shows more than superheroes.”

“Like Hawk Solo? We dressed up as the robots once when we were little, remember, Della?” Donald’s sister laughed. 

“Hawk Solo was all right,” Gyro responded, “Though I was really more of a Major Courage kid. Then Ducktor Who when I got a little older.” 

“Oh! I loved Major Courage!” Donald exclaimed. 

“Too bad the main actor turned out to be such a dingus.” Della muttered, and Launchpad chuckled, as if this was part of some private joke.

“What do you think about the new reboot they’re planning?” Donald continued, looking earnestly at Gyro. 

“Honestly? It looks really good. Like they’ve actually involved a scientist in any part of the writing.”

“Aww, I always thought the terrible science and cheesy special effects was part of the charm! I don’t know if it will be the same if they take themselves seriously.” 

“Oh, sure! But the corniness was all right when I was a kid- this reboot looks great for adults too.”

Launchpad sighed. “Hope Darkwing gets a reboot someday.”

“Oh! Speaking of Darkwing, we brought you some old merch!” Donald crossed the room and picked up a backpack that was propped against the door. “Just some stuff I had in my closet, I haven’t used it in years, but maybe you’d want some?”

Donald unzipped the bag and pulled out a purple lunchbox. 

“Ooo, it’s got the old logo on it!” Launchpad reached out to inspect it, and the lunchbox rattled. 

“Open it up- there’s more inside.” Della encouraged him.

Launchpad undid the metal clasps and gasped. “Are these...?”

“Yep.” Donald grinned.

Launchpad pulled out two small green figurines. “The Hamburger Hippo kids meal toys! I’ve been looking for the Bushroot to complete my set for  _ ages!  _ No one has him! And you had  _ two  _ this whole time?”

“Twins.” Della shrugged. “Same restaurant, same day, same toy. But I think you need them more than we do.”

“I don’t know how to thank you guys! You’re the best!” Launchpad pulled both ducks into an enormous bear-hug. “You want to get in on this hug action, GG?”

It took Gyro a moment to realize that Launchpad was referring to him. “I had nothing to do with this.” He stayed firmly in his seat. He wasn’t much one for hugs. Or touching in general, these days. Launchpad looked puzzled for a moment, then cheerily set Donald and Della back down on the floor.

“You two need a ride back up to the manor?” 

“We’ll be all right, it’s a pretty short walk up the hill,” said Donald.

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, the twins departed, and Launchpad began to clean up the empty snack and drink containers that were scattered around the small kitchen/ living room as Gyro quietly sipped the cocoa he had made. 

“So you hadn’t met any of Mr. McD’s family yet, GG?”

Gyro wasn’t sure he liked the nickname, but decided not to say anything about it. “My PhD advisor was Mr. McDuck’s brother-in-law, actually. But I haven’t met anyone else, until tonight.”

“Well, as gruff as Mr. McD seems at first, he can be a real softie once you get to know him. Same thing with Donald- he’s got a temper, but he’s really a nice guy most of the time. And a really good musician! We should go see his band next time they play!”

Gyro just nodded. 

“And then Della’s in my aviation class this semester. One of the only girls there, and she flies better than any of us. She sure is something.” A soft, yearning look crossed Launchpad’s face.

“Wait.” Gyro wasn’t sure if he was reading the situation right. He thought for a moment- would it be too embarrassing to ask? No, he decided. If anyone would be embarrassed, it should be Launchpad. “Do you mean you have a crush on Della?”

Launchpad’s face fell. “Yeah, a bit. But nothing’s gonna happen there. She’s dating a literal goddess.” He crushed an empty soda can and pitched it into the recycling. “What about you? You seeing anyone?”

“I told you- I haven’t met anyone here yet.”

“So no one from before?”

Gyro sighed and bit his lower lip. “Not anymore.” Launchpad was watching him quietly, so he continued. “There was this guy I kinda dated for a while last year. But it turned out he was using me. Just wanted ideas for his stupid start-up.” His eyes felt hot, as if tears were about to well up. He stared away from Launchpad and towards the opposite wall, feeling ashamed. That college fling wasn’t  _ worth _ crying over. He reached up and pretended to wipe a smudge off his glasses.

“That sucks, buddy.” Launchpad nodded sympathetically.

“It’s over now.” Gyro waved a dismissive hand.

“Well, you’ll find someone new. I could always try to introduce you to some guys if I meet any that seem like your type. Girls too? Or just guys?”

“What? Oh, just guys.” Gyro brushed his hair out of his face and put his glasses back on. There was no use dwelling on what might have been. He turned back to his roommate. “And thanks, but no thanks. I’d rather focus on my work than on dating right now.”

“Fair enough. But you shouldn’t overwork yourself. Burnout is a serious problem for early-career professionals. Or at least, that’s what I read the other day.” Launchpad nodded sagely. “So you’ve got a standing invitation to come along when I go out, ok? Duckberg’s a great town, and I’m happy to show you around.”

Gyro was sure that Launchpad meant well, but he generally found socializing more taxing than work. Still he didn’t want to be rude, not to someone he’d have to share a living space with for at least the next several months. “Sure. You know where to find me.” He rinsed his cocoa mug and retreated to his bedroom.


	2. All That For a Blender

_ Whiiiiirrrrrrrrr _

_ Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee _

There was a very odd mechanical sound coming from the kitchen.

_ Brrrrrrrrwrrrrrrreeeeeiiiiiiiiiii _

Gyro opened the door to his room. Launchpad was standing at the counter, facing away from Gyro and staring at whatever was making the whiney whirring sound. 

“Launchpad?”

His roommate turned around. “Oh! Good morning, Gyro! Launchpad was scooping some strawberry yogurt into a blender, which let out a loud ‘ _ beeeeeeeeaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrr’  _ when he turned it on. 

“Should it be making that noise?” Gyro asked, as he scooped some beans into the coffee maker.

“Probably not. I’ve had it for years, already had to glue it back together a few times.” Launchpad shrugged. “But it still blends! Sorry if it woke you up though.” 

“No, I’m generally up pretty early. Was just reading.”

“Oh, cool! Like, a book or a magazine or something? Hey, that reminds me! I went down to get the mail and there was a magazine for you.” Launchpad gestured towards a pile of glossy volumes on the kitchen table. 

“The  _ Proceedings of the Western Society of Astrophysicists  _ is not a magazine _ , _ it’s a scientific journal.” Gyro picked it up and started flipping through the pages while he waited for his coffee to brew. Launchpad poured his smoothie into a glass and peeked over Gyro’s shoulder. 

“Whoa. Pretty colors! What’s that graph mean?” Launchpad pointed to a complex, three-dimensional plot on the page, with several color gradients that represented the theorized anomalies in relativistic gravitational waves around a black hole.

“I highly doubt I could explain it to you, unless you understand relativistic physics and multivariable calculus.”

“Well, I don’t know what a ‘calculus’ is, but I did get a B+ in Physics last year! An object at rest remains at rest unless acted on by an outside force.” Launchpad nodded sagely, looking pleased with himself. 

“Unfortunately, this is post-Newtonian theory.” Gyro sniffed and returned to the article. He added one spoonful of sugar to his coffee and sipped at it. Launchpad flipped through his own mail while drinking his smoothie, then looked up at Gyro again.

“You’re not just having coffee for breakfast, are you?”

“I’m not usually hungry in the morning.”

“Here! Have the rest of my smoothie. I made a little bit too much today.” 

Before Gyro could object, Launchpad had grabbed a second glass and poured the remaining mixture from the blender, setting it in front of Gyro. Gyro stared at it. Launchpad sat back down and drained the rest of his glass.

“Go ahead. I’ve had plenty.”

Gyro sighed and took a tentative sip. It was pretty good, actually. It was mostly strawberry, with hints of citrus, and some tropical fruit that Gyro couldn’t quite place. “Thanks.” he muttered.

“I was gonna go to the gym in a little bit,” Launchpad kept talking. “You could come with, if you want. I get one free guest pass per month with my membership.”

“No thank you. Oh! It’s definitely not supposed to be doing that!” A plume of lavender-colored smoke was rising from the blender, which had started to whine at a higher pitch than before. 

“Oh no! That means the shiny thingy probably melted again!” Launchpad jumped up and unplugged the appliance, carrying it at arm’s length towards the window, which he opened and placed the smoking contraption on the outer ledge. 

Gyro followed him. “What shiny thingy?”

“I dunno what it’s called. It goes between two wires.” 

That was not helpful. Gyro stared from the blender to Launchpad and back again. “I could try to take a look at it, once it cools down?” he offered. 

“That’d be great, if you think you can fix it!”

“I have a PhD in mechanical engineering. I think I can fix a malfunctioning blender.”

The blender, however, proved to be considerably more difficult to fix than Gyro had anticipated. Years of Launchpad’s “repairs” left Gyro wondering how the appliance still turned on, let alone changed speeds. The ‘shiny thingy’ turned out to be a piece of aluminum foil that seemed to have been shoved in to replace a broken resistor. There were a number of loose connections in the circuitry as well. On the other hand, he could see lots of potential ways to upgrade the appliance. Maybe he could find a way to get it to automatically stop blending when the contents reached a desired consistency? 

Gyro returned to his bedroom and pulled his tool kit out of the closet. It felt good to have a project like this again. Most of what he’d done at work so far was administrative. Sure, he’d made some blueprints, but the Board insisted on reviewing them for weeks before he could request funding for supplies, and the lab was very poorly stocked. 

He dug through his toolbox and pulled out a soldering iron. “Blatherskite.” The plug wouldn’t fit in American outlets. It had served him well for several years in Tokyolk, then two years in Hamsterdam after that, but now that he was in Duckburg, he’d have to replace most of his power tools. Or possibly just swap out the plugs, but he’d need a working soldering gun to do that. He’d seen a hardware store from the bus, it wasn’t too far from his apartment. He grabbed his coat and headed out. 

Like most big-box hardware stores, the Bills and Drills was a vast cavern of a place that smelled vaguely of sawdust, with concrete floors and harsh fluorescent lighting. Lumber was to the left, plumbing to the right, and the garden section beyond that- electronics had to be towards the back, then? Gyro started to navigate the store, which seemed relatively empty. That was surprising for a Saturday. Then again, maybe there were actually a lot of shoppers, but the store itself was so vast that he just couldn’t see very many people.

“Welcome to Bills and Drills, can I help you find anything?” a distinctively raspy voice sounded behind him. “Oh! Hi Gyro!” the voice said again as he turned. Donald Duck was standing there, dressed in the store’s uniform of a dark shirt and a teal apron.

“Oh! Hello Donald. You work here?”

Donald shrugged. “Have to pay off the student loans somehow.”

Gyro nodded sympathetically. He’d been lucky enough to earn a scholarship for his undergraduate program, and a research grant to fund his PhD, but he knew most other students weren’t so lucky. Except Donald was-- Gyro stared at him for a moment. “Loans? But your uncle is--”

“So rich he literally bathes in gold? Yeah. But ‘If I started with naught but a dime, ye can too, laddie!’” Donald made a fair imitation of his uncle’s brogue. “He’s given me a dime a month for allowance since I was twelve, and beyond that I’m on my own. Anyway, can I help you find anything?”

“Electronics? I need a new soldering gun, a packet of resistors, some 12-gauge copper wire, and maybe a few other things.” Donald nodded, and gestured for Gyro to follow him.

They were passing the paint collection when someone else stopped them. 

“Good morning, dear cousin Donald!” A man with curly blonde hair was standing there, smartly dressed in an emerald-green waistcoat and leaning on a stylish walking-stick.

Donald gave a slight groan. “Not now, Gladstone. I’m helping a customer.” He pointed to Gyro.

“I’m a customer too, you know.” Gladstone looked a little put out. “My next-door neighbor just happened to be cleaning her garage this morning, and found this nifty collapsible jacuzzi that she never used. She already has a pool, so she offered it to me. But the frame does rather clash with my existing patio decor. I’m trying to decide between mint green and pistachio green- what do you think-- ooooh! Twenty dollars!” A crisp bill slipped out from between two paint chips as he pulled them from the colorful display. 

Donald rolled his eyes as Gladstone bent down to pick it up. “Well, I’m working the floor today, but I’m sure Bluegloss Beagle at the paint counter can help you out. Look, he’s finishing with his previous customer now.” Donald pointed. The Beagle seemed to be processing a refund for a man in coveralls. 

“I’ll ask him in a minute, but I’m so glad I ran into you too, cuz! Because when I was on my way to the store just now, I found this wallet on the ground. Just lying on the sidewalk! So I picked it up and looked inside. The driver’s license listed an address just two doors down from where I was. So I go over and knock on the door. This lady answers, and is of course overjoyed that I found her wallet, and she happens to be a stagehand at the Wingcoln Center- you know, the big theater downtown? Anyway, to thank me for returning her wallet, she gives me two free tickets to tonight’s premiere of the musical  _ Drakespeare in Love. _ But, I don't know if I want to go. I really wanted to break in my new jacuzzi tonight. You want them? Show starts at 8.”

“My shift isn’t over until 8:30. And I’ve got band practice after.” 

“Ah well, I’m sure I can find someone else who can use them.” Gladstone turned on his heel and headed towards the paint counter, where he was almost immediately handed the two cans of pistachio green, which had been mixed and then rejected by the man in coveralls.

“Insufferable prick.” Donald muttered under his breath. He motioned to Gyro, and they continued towards the electronics section. 

Gyro stared after Gladstone. That much good luck seemed beyond Gyro’s understanding of probability. Donald was looking surly now. Maybe he should change the subject? “Launchpad mentioned you had a band.” he finally said. 

Donald’s face brightened. “Yeah! We’re called the Three Caballeros! It’s me and two of my best friends from Mouston University. We’re playing a show at Saludos next week, actually!”

“Saludos?”

“Oh, right. You’re new in town. It’s this cafe down by the marina district. They have live music on Wednesdays, and trivia on Fridays. I’m pretty sure Launchpad was planning to come, he could probably give you a ride.”

They had reached the electronics aisle. Gyro began perusing the shelves, trying to convince himself to only buy what he knew he needed for the current project, rather than everything he could possibly need in the future. He picked out some wire, then started to compare soldering guns, when he realized Donald was still watching him hopefully. 

Gyro wasn’t much of a concert person. He wasn’t sure he wanted to sit in some noisy cafe and watch some musicians he hardly even knew play music that he didn’t even understand. But, he should probably be polite. “I can try. If I don’t have to work late.”

Donald nodded understandingly. “Yeah, I know how it is. Especially working for my uncle. Speaking of work, though, I should get back to it.” He disappeared into the next aisle.

Several hours later, Gyro was seated at the apartment’s kitchen table, hunched over a tiny circuit board. To his left was scattered all sorts of tools- the newly-purchased soldering iron sitting amongst a pile of wire-cutters and pliers. To his right were an array of bottles holding various household liquids: orange juice, egg whites, dish detergent, alcohol, and several condiments that seemed to have been in the refrigerator for a very long time. He shook some ketchup from the bottle into a small beaker and placed it on his electronic mass balance. He groaned. 100 milliliters, 115 grams. As he suspected. The blender was responding to its contents’  _ density!  _ It was supposed to be calibrating for  _ viscosity!  _ Maybe he needed a less powerful transistor? He glared at the circuitry in front of him, foot tapping furiously on the floor. 

He was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a key rattling in the lock. “Hey Gyro, whatcha working on?” Launchpad burst through the door. 

“Oh, cool! You’re fixing the blender!” Gyro gave a curt nod. There were some splotches of green paint on Launchpad’s pants, and a tall, slender woman hanging on his arm. She was a crane, wearing a gold-embroidered red dress that perfectly complemented the crest of bright red feathers on her head. “This is Ziyi, by the way. Ziyi, this is my roommate, Gyro.” 

“Hi.” Gyro waved, feeling slightly irritated. Launchpad talked about dating enough that Gyro really should have expected that he would bring someone home sooner or later. But he’d already gone to the store today. He wasn’t ready to meet more new people right now. 

“Anyway, I just stopped by here to change clothes, we’re going out again in a minute! Gonna have dinner and see a show while she’s in town.” Launchpad disappeared into his bedroom.

“Where are you visiting from?” Gyro asked, by way of politeness.

“Macauw,” Ziyi responded in a smooth, musical voice. “But my family has connections everywhere. I’m here to settle a rather lucrative business partnership here in Duckburg.”

“Oh, with Mr. McDuck?”

“No,” her voice grew a bit cold, and her face stiffened. “We have not been able to come to a profitable agreement with Mr. McDuck. We were forced to take our business elsewhere.”

Launchpad came out of his bedroom, now wearing clean trousers, a smart blazer and a patterned tie. “Yep. Have you seen the big building in the Financial District with the giant Scottish hat on top? What’s it called again?”

“A tam-o-shanter.” Ziyi reminded him.

“Right. That. Well, that’s Glomgold Industries. Flintheart Glomgold is another big business guy. His company does a lot of manufacturing stuff.  And Ziyi’s meeting with him early tomorrow!” He wrapped an arm around her waist. “Anyway, we should get going. We were planning to just have dinner tonight, but then, the craziest thing happened! See, the gym was super-crowded this morning, and I didn’t get in as many dumbbell sets as I wanted. Then on my way out, I ran into my buddy Gladstone! He had two cans of paint, and they looked pretty heavy. But they were actually about the weight I like to use for bicep curls, so I offered to carry them home for him. He got this new jacuzzi, and I helped him paint it in exchange for two tickets to  _ Drakespeare In Love _ !”

“I told you, Launchpad. Having the right connections pays off. Tickets have been sold out for months.” Ziyi took Launchpad’s elbow and looked up at him proudly.

“Anyway, our dinner reservation’s at 6:30, so we should get going. Want me to bring you back any food, GG?”

Gyro raised an eyebrow at him. “It would most certainly be cold after the show.”

“Fair enough. But you should still eat something, since you haven’t already. See you later!”

The door closed behind him, and Gyro stared at it. He  _ hadn’t _ , in fact, had dinner yet. He’d been too focused on testing out the viscosity sensors. But how on earth had Launchpad known that? Gyro got up and quickly made a peanut butter sandwich and a cup of tea, chewing thoughtfully as he stared at his circuit diagram. Aha! He _was_ using the wrong type of transistor! He swapped it out, finished his food, and continued testing. 

He finished just before midnight. That wasn’t too bad, for a tinkering project. And it had been a nice way to spend the day. He hadn’t had much time to fool around like this in graduate school. But now, he just did designs for Mr. McDuck during the week, and weekends were his own. He’d been in school for so long he’d almost forgotten what a free Saturday was like. It was extremely pleasant. He stretched and cleaned up his tools, making it to his bedroom just as he heard Launchpad’s heavy tread coming up the hallway again. Gyro quickly turned off his light and settled into bed. No point spoiling what had been an excellent day with pointless social interaction. 

He woke again to the whir of the blender from the kitchen. He groaned. Launchpad and Ziyi had made quite a bit of noise when they got back, so Gyro had gotten to sleep considerably later than he wanted to. He should probably try to get some noise-cancelling headphones. Or find a way to better soundproof the walls…

His thoughts were interrupted by a shout from Launchpad, then a loud shattering sound. A hard object smacked against his door. Gyro quickly changed out of his pajamas and cautiously looked out into the kitchen. 

The object that had hit his door turned out to be the lid of the blender, which had apparently rocketed over when the appliance was turned on. A layer of pinkish foam that smelled strongly of strawberries coated the countertops and the cabinets. There was even a bit on the ceiling. Two of the blender’s blades were embedded in the wall above the stove. A carton of orange juice had been knocked over next to the sink, mixing with the strawberry-foam and dripping slowly onto the floor, where Launchpad was sprawled, groaning in pain. 

“Uhhhh, Launchpad? You ok?” Gyro asked

“Oh! Hey GG! I didn’t hear you come in!” Launchpad looked up, startled.

“What happened here?” Gyro gestured to the mess, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer.

“Ummm… well… you know that blender you were fixing last night?”

Gyro raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I sort of… crashed it?”

“How on  _ earth  _ do you crash a  _ blender? _ ”

Launchpad sat up, checking over his body for injuries. “I was trying to make a smoothie and the ice wouldn’t crush. So I turned it up to the highest speed, and it started glowing!.”

“Blathering--. I should have left a note or something.” Gyro facepalmed, hard.

“Huh?” Launchpad stood and started looking for a towel, but they were all covered in more strawberry foam than he was. 

“The highest speed is the plasma setting! It’s only for highly specific industrial uses. Not ice!” 

“Oh! Plasma!” Launchpad suddenly looked extraordinarily sheepish, as he sidled into the bathroom to grab a clean cloth and a sponge. “I only glanced at it. I thought it said ‘plums’.” 

“Plums.” Gyro repeated tonelessly. 

“It’s got most of the same letters! And I had plums in the smoothie today! Anyway, after it started to glow, it started vibrating super-hard. Knocks my banana right off the counter. So I grabbed onto the handles, but the whole blender was shaking like crazy, and I couldn’t hold it steady. The lid popped off, and then it started spilling everywhere, and then I slipped on the banana, and well-” he gestured towards the wreckage of the blender on the floor. “I kinda landed on it.” 

Gyro bent down and looked at the shattered remains of the appliance. It was definitely beyond repairing now. Yesterday’s work was completely crushed. He felt like he should be angry, but his roommate seemed so apologetic, so earnest, so difficult to be mad at. Still, it was disappointing. 

Launchpad put a hand on his shoulder. Gyro stiffened at the touch, but didn’t pull away. “I guess we gotta buy a new one?”

Gyro nodded mutely and stood up. At least he knew where to find the hardware store.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm anticipating this one to have five or six chapters, so stay tuned!


End file.
